Bottom of the Ocean
by swinglifeawayxx
Summary: Miley is struggling through all the the photo scandals and rumors, interviews where Joe and Kevin stand up for her, but never Nick. She sees everyone again for the first time at the Disney Channel Games and tries to let go. PAST. Twoshot.
1. Chapter 1

_**Bottom of the Ocean**_

_swinglifeawayxx_

**_Part One_**

"It was a mistake," I mumbled, looking away from two of my best friends standing in front of me on the "Hannah Montana" set. We were in my dressing room, where the two had practically cornered me and demanded to know what the hell was going on with me. I didn't have any answers.

"What were you doing alone with him anyways?" Mitchel asked incredulously, flipping his long hair out of his face. "He's _**22, **_Miley. You're 15!"

"I know, Mitch, thank you. I met him through Brandi and her friends," I replied, avoiding his real question as well as his piercing gaze. Emily was very much at evidence at his side, her tiny frame looking strangely intimidating as she glared at me.

"That's not what he asked," she pushed firmly. Em had always been protective of me, and anyone would be able to tell she was seriously pissed off.

"I don't know, okay?" I exclaimed, on the verge of helpless tears. I threw my hands up into the air and flopped dejectedly down on the couch behind me. " I don't know what I was thinking, all I know is that I regret what I did. Big time."

I threw my purse and house keys on the kitchen counter in my wing of the house, walking over to the refrigerator. I opened the stainless steel door, grabbing a lemonade Vitamin Water, unscrewing the cap and gulping half of it down in one go. As I shut the door, my stomach clenched; my eye caught a picture of me and three brothers, arms around each other, the youngest staring straight into my eyes. I hadn't been able to bring myself to take it down since the breakup - three months ago. I shut my eyes tightly for a moment, before turning and making my way down the hallway to my room, flicking of the kitchen lights as I went. It was near ten o'clock at night and my driver had just dropped me off at home from the set. Mitchel and Emily hadn't pressed the subject after seeing how upset I was, but it still hurt to see how disappointed they were in me.

I walked into my blue bedroom, grabbing my laptop off of one of my night tables and placing it on my bed. After pressing the power button, I walked across the room to my bathroom, turning on the light. I looked in the mirror and looked away fast; I was a mess. Ever since the pictures had surfaced, I hadn't really bothered to put on a lot of makeup or put on really flashy clothes. I looked more like an average teenager than the teen queen.

I sighed and turned on the faucet, cupping my hands under it to catch the stream of water. The shining liquid pooled in my palms and I leaned down, swiftly splashing it on my face, waking me up. I reached blindly to the side and grabbed the towel that was hanging on the hook in the wall, patting my face dry. When that was done, I hung the soft towel back up, carefully avoiding looking into the mirror. I turned and walked back into my room without a second glance.

I was already in a pair of comfy sweats and a tee-shirt, so I plopped down onto my bed, leaning against the fluffy pillows. i pulled my MacBook onto my lap, typing in my password before clicking on the internet icon. The homepage popped up and I clicked on the address bar, my fingers flying across the keyboard. Soon the red and white "Youtube" logo popped up. My fingers guided the mouse to the search bar, where I typed in my desired search. In a matter of seconds, videos titled "Miley Cyrus Photo Scandal" flashed onto the screen.

This had become a daily routine for me. I came home from work and checked out what the fans were saying about me that day. I had a surprising amount of supporters, but the haters were brutal. I'm not sure why I made myself look every single day - probably because this was my way of punishing myself.

I clicked on the first video I saw, a new one. Once the page loaded, I skipped right down to the comments. I, of all people, didn't need to see those pictures again. I took a deep breath and started reading.

**"**_**shes so ugly when i see her face it makes me wanna throw up!!"**_ Well, this was a usual comment. I was used to it. Not to say it didn't hurt, I just knew better than to let it bother me.

**"**_**omg shes just like any other teenage girl. we all take pics like that so dont be a hypocrite**_**."** Here was one of my true fans. I appreciated them more than ever.

**"**_**omg miley is a fricken slutt and im sry but she is. she so used nick. i feel bad for him. miley isnt good enough for any jonas brother."**_ These hurt the most.

I didn't use him, I didn't! We were best friends before we dated, _he_ was the one who told me he liked me, _he_ was the one who stopped calling, _he_ was the one who broke it off! I loved him! And I never liked Kevin or Joe. They were like older brothers to me. I still talked to them. Why did all the blame always have to be on me?

Tears pooled in my eyes and rolled slowly down my cheeks. I stared unseeingly at that one comment for God knows how long, before a hand not my own pushed down the screen and shut the computer.

"Why do you do this to yourself, Miles?"

I looked up to see Trace and Brandi staring down at me, Trace's hand on my laptop. My face crumpled and I started to sob, curling in on myself. My brother and sister rushed to sit on either side of me on the bed, Trace moving my computer back to my bedside table. Brandi stroked my hair as I curled into a ball, laying my head in her lap.

"Shh, Miles," she soothed, trying to calm my crying. Trace rubbed my back, silent. My sobs continued, untamed, ripping from my throat. I hated the fact that I'd disappointed them so much.

We stayed like this for a good five minutes, me trying to take solace in the unusual presence of _both_ of older siblings home at the same time.

"I'm s-so sorry," I gasped out, sitting up and trying to even my breathing. I looked around at both of my family members. "I d-don't know what I was thinking when I t-took them, and I did-"

"Miley, it's not your fault," Brandi cut me off, moving to sit next to Trace in front of me. "I'm the one who introduced you to Tom. I knew he wasn't the best guy in the world."

"It's not y-_your_ fault, Brand," I said, looking at my hands in my lap.

"Miley, you were pressured," Trace said softly. "You have pressure on you all the time from the _entire_ world. You're allowed to make a mistake once in a while."

"But I let _everyone_ down," I whispered.

"This family loves you no matter what you do," Trace said, firmly now. "And your fans still support you."

"The ones who don't aren't your real fans, anyway," Brandi added. "And your friends still love you."

"Not all my friends," I mumbled, tears springing to my eyes again.

"Oh, Miley," Brandi said, pulling me into her arms. I rested my head on her shoulder. "Nick still loves you, the time just wasn't right for you guys."

"He loves Selena," I whispered, trying desperately to stay calm.

"What makes you think that?" my sister asked me, pulling back to look at me.

"You haven't seen the pictures?" I asked incredulously.

"What pictures?" Trace asked calmly, but I could hear the dangerous note in his voice.

"Hand me the laptop," I said, sighing. He did, and once I got to youtube, I did yet another search. This time the pictures that came up were of Nick and Selena hugging fiercely, and of Selena wearing a vintage Elvis Costello tee - the same kind Nick had.

"Son of a bitch. I'm going to kill that kid," Trace growled under his breath, wrapping an arm around me and closing the laptop once again. I ignored him.

"They could mean nothing," Brandi tried to reason. "I hug my best guy friends all the time, and there are more than one Costello shirts in the world."

"It's just the fact that we're not even _friends_ anymore. It's bad enough to watch him happy with someone else, but then to know that I don't have any tie to him at all anymore," I whispered. "He has no reason not to forget me and just move on."

"No one in the world could forget you, Miles," Trace winked at me, though his eyes were still angry. "Trust me on that."

I managed a weak chuckle as they enveloped me in a group hug.

"Don't worry, Mi," Brandi murmured into my hair. "It will all work out...just give it some time."

The next morning when I woke up, my phone was flashing on my bedside table. Squinting against the bright light streaming in the window, I grabbed the rectangular body and slid my finger across the screen, unlocking it. There were two new text messages, one from Joe and one from Mandy. I clicked on Mandy's first. It read,

"_Hey Shmiley, I heard from Brand that you had a rough day yesterday. Call me to hang out today!! Time for some Mandy-style cheering up!! Love you girly, Shmanderrs."_

I grinned despite myself. I loved that girl. Quickly replying, telling her I would take a shower and then call her, I opened Joe's text.

"_Hey Miles, just wanted to tell you I love and miss you!. We all do. Stay strong, dudette. Love, DANGER."_

This one made me sad again. They didn't all miss me, and I knew it. I replied quickly with the same message I had sent Mandy, saying I'd call him in a bit.

Then I threw my phone on my bed and went to take a long, hot shower. Once that was done, I put on my bathrobe and wrapped my long hair up in a towel, walking back to my bedroom. I picked up my phone and sat down on the couch, only to find that I had another new message. It was from Shmanders, telling me not to call until later because she was in dance rehearsals for "Beach Girls." I shrugged and pressed the button to take me to the phone, pressing the familiar digits of Joseph's cell phone number. I pressed the CALL button and waited. It rang a few times before Joe answered with an excited,

"HELLO MISS ' I NEVER CALL MY BIG BROTHER/ BEST FRIEND UNLESS HE GETS DESPERATE AND TEXTS SEVEN BAGILLION TIMES!!'"

I giggled.

"Hello, Danger."

"Hey, Miles," he said, normally this time, and I could hear the smile in his voice. "How you been doing?" The smile dropped from my face.

"Um..."

"Oh, sorry, stupid question!" he blurted out, and I breathed a sigh of relief at not having to explain yet again. "Whatcha been up to?"

"Random stuff," I said. I waited about three seconds, grinning.

"AWKWARD!" we both yelled, laughing. This was why I loved talking to Joe, he could cheer me up in seconds. Then I heard a voice in the background that made my heart skip a beat.

"_Who're you talking to, Joe?"_ It was him, of course.

"Miley," Joe said shortly, knowing that hearing Nick would make me upset again.

"_Miley Cyrus?"_ the voice practically yelped.

"How many other Mileys do we know?" Joe asked sarcastically, chuckling. I could practically see him ruffling Nick's curls jokingly.

"_Oh."_ That's the last I heard of the voice.

"Hey Joe, maybe I should let you get back to the band..."I said a bit awkwardly. "You sound busy."

"Um.. okay? I love you, Miles," he said, a bit confused.

"I love you too, Danger."

"Wait! Go to "Youtube" and look up 'Joe Jonas Miley Cyrus Photos'. Trust me, it'll make you feel better."

"Thanks Joseph. Bye," I replied, hanging up.

Ignoring his request for the moment, I walked through the door to my walk-in closet, heading over to grab some clothes. I headed back to the bathroom and slipped into my boyshorts and bra, pulling the towel from my hair. I decided to leave it curly, so I rubbed some gel through it and left it to air dry. Next, I pulled on my Sevens stone-washed skinny jeans, followed by a black tanktop. Over that, I pulled on a blue and black checkered, off-the-shoulder sweater. Next, I moved on to makeup - simple lipgloss and mascara. I walked back to my closet to grab a necklace and some bangles, as well as a pair of green converse hightops.

Done getting ready, I walked back to my computer, turning it on and doing just as Joe had requested. I clicked on the first video I saw, and listened carefully.

"_Have you seen the pictures, Joe, of Miley Cyrus floating around the web?" _The interviewer asked.

"_**Um, I-I don't think so,"**_ Joe responded. Bullshit.

"_Come on, Joe!" _the interviewer encouraged. "_You know you have."_

_"__**Well, I just, we, uh, we're good friends with her. We've got her back and we love her to death." **_Joe responded loyally. I could hear Kevin agreeing in the background. That made me grin, appreciating just how much they cared. Then it struck me...Nick hadn't said _anything_. He hadn't even pretended to stick up for me and care. He couldn't even pretend.

Wiping angrily at the tears already ridiculously forming, I clicked out of the screen, showing my background, a shot of the ocean. The water was so clear and blue, you could see all the way to the bottom.

_The bottom of the ocean._

_**The bottom of the ocean**_.

The words echoed through my head, sparking my creativity. Oh, I had a song idea. I had a good song idea and, so help me God, I was going to run with it.

"Momma, how long until we get there?" I asked, looking up from my lyrics notebook. My mom glanced up from her laptop, which was resting on her knees in the backseat of the limo.

"About ten minutes, baby," she replied with a smile, probably happy to see me so excited. I had been locked away in my room for the past few days, finishing the song idea that had popped into my head. We were now on our way to the Disney Channel Games concert, which I was going to be performing in. Disney hadn't allowed me to participate in the games, which I totally understood, no matter how much I hated it. I brought it upon myself.

When we got there, I was immediately rushed to my dressing room, though we still had hours. Just being cautious. My sound-check was in one hour, so my stylist decided to just have my hair done by then. He washed my hair and blow-dried it while I warmed up my voice. He was just finishing with the Chi I had brought, when a voice yelled "Knock, knock!" just outside my door.

"Come in," I called out. I couldn't see the door from where I sat, but as soon as the two pairs of arms wrapped around me from either side, I knew exactly who it was.

"Danger! K2!" I exclaimed, jumping out of my chair, much to Bryan (the stylist's) dismay. I turned around and threw my arms first around Kevin, then Joe, feeling the latter kiss the top of my head. "I missed you guys!"

"We missed you, too, Smiley," Kevin grinned once Joe let go of me.

"Ehemm," Bryan fake coughed. I giggled and jumped back into my chair while he playfully swatted the top of my head.

"Oops, sorry Bry."

"You better be, little missy," he said, mock-sternly. I giggled again.

Joe and Kevin pulled up two chairs on my left side, while Bryan swiveled my chair so I could face them.

"How've you guys been?" I asked immediately, trying to keep the subject off of me for as long as possible.

"We've been good," Kevin started with a knowing look. I didn't fool him for a second - I never had been able to.

"Kev, here, bought a new guitar that is now his wife and children," Joe teased. "And I've been being my normal self."

"Joe, you're never normal," Kevin pointed out. Joe stuck his tongue out at him. My smile was huge; I loved watching their playful banter.

"Sounds fun. How long until the new record?" I asked as Bryan curled my long hair into loose barrel curls.

"August twelfth," Joe grinned, bouncing in his seat. "We're so excited!"

"I'll bet," I smiled, happy for them.

"How about you, Miss Cyrus?" Kevin asked.

"July twenty-second," I replied, playing with my hands. They knew where most of my inspiration for this album had come from. Joe, noticing this, sobered.

"How've you _really _been, Miley?" he asked earnestly, trying to catch my gaze. Bryan took this as his cue to leave.

"You're done Miles," he said, patting my shoulder. "I'll come back before the show for touch-ups." Then he left me alone with two of the only people in the world who would actually demand to know what was actually going on.

"Uhm," - I drew in a shaky breath - "I've been better, but I'm dealing." I was still looking down, and I felt someone's hand lift my chin up; Joe.

"You're not alone, Miley," he said quietly as Kevin nodded beside him. "We're always here to talk, and we always will be, whether you're dating Nick or not.

"Thank you," I whispered.

They both stood up and pulled me with them, enveloping me in another Jonas group hug. One was missing though. I tried not to let myself think of that.

"Are you ready to rock sound-check?" I mock-yelled as we pulled back.

"Uh, hell yeah!" Kevin yelled back.

"Let's go!" yelled Joe, and proceeded to sling me over his shoulder and run right out of my dressing room, Kevin on our tail.

"Joseph, put me down!" I screamed, laughing as he tickled my sides.

"Never!" he exclaimed, tuning the corner and heading backstage. People stopped to stare as we passed, some grinning, familiar with Joe's antics.

I was still giggling when we got backstage. Joe came to a sudden stop, pulling me down and wrapping a protective arm around me. Confused, I followed his gaze; my smile faded. Standing in front of us was none other than Nicholas Jonas, in the flesh.

"Uh, hi," he said, his eyes wide. _My_ eyes were cold as ice.

"Nicholas." I nodded my head. I could've sworn I saw him flinch.

"I was just looking for Joe and Kevin. We've got sound-check after Demi." He wouldn't even look at me.

"I'll, uh, let you do that," I said quietly, turning to Joe. "Knock 'em dead!"

With one last hug from Joe and Kevin, and one last glance at Nick, I made my way over to the mic station, willing myself not to look back.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Bottom of the Ocean**_

_swinglifeawayxx_

* * *

_**REVIEW REPLIES!!!!!!!!**_

**I'd like to thank everyone who reviewed, even though there were a lot less than when this story was originally posted. Please, _please_ review this second part. It's way more important than the first part.**

**I'd especially like to thank:**

Melissa (anonymous reviewer), **for telling me that she'd read this story no matter how many times it gets reposted, **

missinginimagination,** for being wonderful and one of my best friends on fanfiction, as well as for calling this story epic, and **

Sleeping to Dream About You,** for leaving a long, super sweet and wonderfully rambling review, as she always does.**

**I love you all.**

**_BRIENNE: I love you!...and I left the "Ocean on Earth" line in here just for you. _**

* * *

**Summary: **Miley is struggling through all the the photo scandals and rumors, seeing fans turn on her and interviews where Joe and Kevin stand up for her, but never Nick. She sees everyone again for the first time at the Disney Channel Games and tries to let go. NILEY.

**Disclaimer: **I own no part of Disney, the Disney Stars or the song "Bottom of the Ocean" by Miley Cyrus. Obviously.

**Authors Note: Please read the note at the bottom for a little perspective. This story meant a lot to me. **

* * *

**_Part Two_**

"Thank ya'll so much!" I yelled into the microphone, taking one final bow. I flipped my long curls back as I stood up straight, just looking out over the crowd, taking in the screaming and adoring fans. My eyes once again caught sight of the "My prayers are with you!" sign, and I smiled - I didn't deserve everything they did for me. The sight of thousands of excited fans never got old. Never.

Blowing one last kiss and waving goodbye, I ran happily offstage, only to be engulfed in a giant Disney Family group hug. I was squashed between Mitchel and Joe, who had been the first to wrap me up in their arms. We all jumped up and down,screaming our heads off - hey, we _had _just finished the biggest collaborative show of the year! I looked to my left and saw Demi and Jordan Pruitt hugging, and to my right, catching a glimpse of Kevin picking up a squealing Adrienne Bailon. The adults and stage crew were on the outskirts, exchanging pleasant handshakes and high-fives.

After about five minutes of ridiculously happy hugging, I ended up thrown over Jason Earles' shoulder, seriously dizzy from all the jumping and spinning.

"Alright, time to put Miley down," I yelled, struggling slightly. He got the point, maneuvering carefully through the throng and putting me down on the outskirts of the chaos.

"Great job, 'lil sis'!" he said, ruffling my hair.

"Wow, you're a cheeseball," I commented, walking backwards towards my dressing room. The sandy-blonde actor stuck his tongue out at me before going over to talk to Sabrina Bryan, who was alone on the other side of the backstage area. Giggling to myself, I began to turn around to go get changed, when

**_BAM!_**

I smacked into something, or someone, and began to fall. I closed my eyes, preparing to slam into the hard ground, but a pair of arms wrapped around my waist and back, catching me in time. I looked up into the face of my so-called savior and my eyes widened, my body freezing as I got trapped in his intent gaze. One guess on who it was.

Yes, that's right, it had to be him. _Him_ of all people.

Quickly breaking out of my trance, I leaped away from him, nearly falling again in the process. His hands dropped poignantly to his sides as his eyes broke away from mine.

"Thank you," I said stiffly, before brushing past him to my dressing room.

I could have sworn I heard a whispered, "You're welcome, Miley," as I hurriedly walked away.

* * *

"No, Joseph," I glared, crossing my arms in front of me. "Uh-uh."

"Please, Miles?" he begged. "It's an open mic! C'mon!"

"Nope."

We were at the Disney Channel Games after-party, a loud, raucous, fun event held for the Disney Teens by the Corporation. It was their way of saying thank you for keeping their empire rolling, I guess. People were milling about, some dancing, some eating, some playing DDR and Guitar Hero in one corner. And right in the front, was an open microphone and stage where we were supposed to "unveil our newest creations," or something like that. The Jonas Brothers had already played "Got Me Going Crazy" for everyone (I only made it through that performance by keeping my eyes strictly on Kevin and Joe), Demi had performed "Until You're Mine," and Jordan had unveiled a new song of hers. Now everyone was waiting for the next performer, and guess who was being bullied into it? Me, of course, by my lovely best friends.

"Please, Miles," Mitchel begged, pouting.

"Yeah, please Miles," Kevin and Joe repeated, pouting as well, though I could see they were desperately trying not to laugh.

"I, uh, don't have anything new written," I lied quickly.

"Bullshit," Mitchel said, smirking. "You're always writing down random song ideas."

"Well, um, I...I...I don't have an acoustic guitar!" I exclaimed, smiling triumphantly.

"You can use mine," Kevin cut in immediately, wiping the smile off of my face. I looked at their smug grins, my shoulders slumping in defeat.

"Fine," I sighed. "Fine."

Before I could change my mind, Joe and Mitchel grabbed my arms while Kevin grabbed a stool and his guitar. They dragged me to the stage, sat me down on the stool, and thrust the guitar into my hands. Joe leaned into the microphone and said, "Give it up for the lovely, talented, Miss Miley Ray Cyrus!"

Everyone turned their attention to the stage as Joe jumped off, some looking shocked as they saw me with a guitar on my lap.

"Um, hey everyone," I mumbled into the microphone, balancing the beautiful black guitar on my lap. I reached forward and lowered the microphone to the right height on the stand. "I know you've probably never seen me play before, but I've been writing my own music since I was ten." I saw Selena throw Demi a skeptical look, and in turn saw Mitchel glaring at the back of her head. Stifling a giggle, I went on. "This is a song that I wrote over the past couple of days, and it means a lot to me, so here is 'Bottom of the Ocean.'"

Avoiding everyone's penetrating gazes, I pulled the spare guitar pick out of it's holder on the back of the neck, took a shaky breath, and began to strum. This was the rough, original version of the song, just me and the guitar, no crappy techno beats. More soul. The words flowed from my mouth.

"_It's been in the past for a while,_

_I get a flash, and I smile,_

_Am I crazy?_

_Still miss you, baby," _I sang.

"_It was real, it was right, _

_but it burned too hot to survive. _

_All that's left is all these ashes."_

I looked out over the small crowd of my fellow Disney stars, most of them looking surprised. I knew what they were thinking. '**Isn't she a fake, no-talent wannabe? Isn't her music supposed to be pop crap?'** I didn't blame them.

_"Where does the love go? _

_I don't know, when it's all said and done. _

_How could I be losing you forever, _

_after all the time we spent together? _

_I have to know why I had to lose you, _

_now you've just become_

_like everything I'll never find again,_

_at the bottom of the ocean."_

My eyes swept over the crowd again, taking in their awestruck expressions, and I was horrified to feel tears burning in my eyes. This is what I'd been afraid of, the reason I didn't want to perform. It was raw, an open wound in saltwater. It was a burning fire you couldn't put out. I continued strumming, just some filler chords to get me through to the next verse while I calmed down. I caught Joe's eye; he looked torn between horror, sympathy, and pride. Horrified that he'd made me do this, that I was hurting this much. Sympathetic because he was close to the thing that caused me all this pain. Proud because I was still sitting up here, letting everything out. I pushed back the tears as best I could as I got into the second verse. People had begun to dance, most with their eyes still on me. I took another breath and continued.

"_In a dream,_

_You appeared,_

_For a while, _

_you were here, _

_So I keep sleeping,_

_just to keep you with me,_

_I draw a map, connect the dots,_

_with all the memories that I've got,_

_what I'm missing,_

_I keep reliving,_

_Where does..."_

The song flowed on as I closed my eyes, really pouring everything I had into it. This was everything. The way I felt about him, the way he'd killed me, the way he haunted everything I did. I hoped he was listening, and listening hard. Part of me wanted this to hurt him, to rip deep into his heart. Then the other part wanted me to stop singing, to never cause him pain, because he was just too perfect for that.

Writing this song had nearly killed me - letting all of this out was probably the hardest thing done in my entire life. But it was even worse performing it to a group of people who most likely all knew what it was about, and most likely believed I was at fault. So why do it you ask? Simple: I had to. I had to do something to erase this empty, lifeless me. I had to let go of this shell of a person who curled up crying in her bed everytime she saw something that's a reminder of the past. I had to flush away all of the sympathy and pity and dependence on other people. I just had to tie myself down and sink to the bottom of my ocean. Release it all in the sand, let the waves carry it away.

Surprising myself, I let words that were not planned fall from my lips.

"This is it," I spoke, more to myself than anyone else. "Let go. Breathe."

That's when I saw it.

...

**Him.**

...

With **her** in his arms.

The words kept pouring out of me, though the world felt like it had stopped.

And then, at the perfect part, our eyes locked.

Blue on brown.

Ocean on Earth.

"_You don't have to love me for me to baby ever understand,_

_Just know I loved the time that we both had,_

_And I don't ever wanna see you sad,_

_Be happy."_

My eyes filled with shining tears, blurring the image of them. Blurring him, his chin resting gently on the top of her head, his arms wound around her waist. Blurring her, happy and triumphant, her thin arms holding him as close as possible, knowing she had stolen him away. One tear slid over my eyelashes, down my cheek, burning on the trail it left behind. Just like **he **had.

"_And I don't wanna hold you if you don't wanna tell me you love me, babe,_

_Just know I'm gonna have to walk away,_

_I'll be big enough for both of us to say,_

_Be happy."_

The tears fell one by one, splashing onto the sleek, dark wood of the guitar. I could feel their gazes cutting through me. I could almost hear Joe's apology watching his little sister fall apart. I could feel my heart screaming and clawing and writhing in my chest, torn to shreds by the harsh realities of life. Real life isn't a fairytale, and **I** knew as well as **he** did that things would never be the same.

**_I _**would never be the same.

As my fingers flew across the cold strings, and the final chords rang through the room, I whispered those two words. Meant for him, heard by everyone.

**"Be happy**."

* * *

**_Alright, that's it. My first Niley that doesn't have a happy ending. This didn't turn out the way I planned, it was originally a happily ever after. But I'm starting to figure out that no matter how much we want it to be, life isn't like that._****_I've never cried writing a story before, but I was close with this. This is just the way Miley must feel (in my mind). Ripped to shreds, needing to find her way back to herself._**

That was the original author's note. All I have to say now, is that Miley has gone through more hurt and many more attacks since I originally wrote this oneshot, but I still believe it illustrates how she struggles. Everything can be going wrong for her, and she is still a selfless, giving, loving person. She is **strong.**

Let me know what **you** have to say.


End file.
